


tlc (that's love, commander)

by bonebo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gabe got hurt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9477740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: Jesse is in the mess hall, chatting with some new recruits and reminiscing the days of old, when he gets the ping.It’s sudden enough to make him drop his coffee--urgent enough that he gets up even as it spills across the table, has time only to throw a hasty apology over his shoulder as he rushes from the room. His boots thud noisily on the stairs as he runs down them, following a path to the med bay that’s well-known, muscle memorized.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the dearest dad ikkanrana](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+dearest+dad+ikkanrana).



Jesse is in the mess hall, chatting with some new recruits and reminiscing the days of old, when he gets the ping.

It’s sudden enough to make him drop his coffee--urgent enough that he gets up even as it spills across the table, has time only to throw a hasty apology over his shoulder as he rushes from the room. His boots thud noisily on the stairs as he runs down them, following a path to the med bay that’s well-known, muscle memorized. 

The door gets thrown open with more force than he intended, but Jesse can’t care--because sitting in a cot across from the door is Strike-Commander Reyes, one of his legs propped up in traction and an IV buried in his arm, head resting heavy on his pillow. His beard is unruly, his curls longer than Jesse remembers ever seeing them; but he’s been out in the field for three months now. Jesse can’t exactly hold his poor grooming against him.

“Hey, boss,” Jesse says, slowly coming closer; he doesn’t see Angela around, which he takes a sign to mean Gabriel’s health is in no real jeopardy. “How’re you feelin’?”

Gabriel lifts his head at the voice, his eyes sluggishly tracking Jesse’s movements as he closes the gap between them. When he’s by his bedside, Jesse can see the way Gabriel’s pupils are different sizes, one blown while the other is a tight pinprick; he’s not a medic, but he knows enough to tell that’s not a great sign. “....boss?” he tries again, voice softer this time. “You okay?”

“....Jessito,” is Gabriel’s answer, the s sound dragging on his tongue. He reaches out one hand, pawing at the air nearly a foot to Jesse’s right. “Hey. It’s been….a while, yeah? Shouldn’t you be somewhere?”

“I am somewhere,” Jesse replies, grinning faintly as he takes Gabriel’s hand and settles on the side of his bed. Gabriel’s eyes drift down, looking at their joined hands, and Jesse squeezes warmly. “Had to come make sure you were okay, big guy. Can’t have the leader of Overwatch goin’ down for too long.”

“‘M fine,” Gabriel mumbles, still staring at their hands like he’s fascinated by them--like he hasn’t seen tech that shifts people through time, or gives a man cut into pieces a new chance at life. “Feel…”

He trails off, blinking owlishly before he shrugs, and Jesse can’t help but chuckle. “Shit, Angie’s got you on some serious stuff, don’t she, sugar? You’re high as a kite.”

“Am not. That’s slander,” Gabriel argues, and Jesse can tell he’s trying to scowl; instead, it comes out as a weird twisting of his lips, a scrunch to his nose that can’t be anything but cute. Jesse’s smile grows, and he raises Gabriel’s hand to his lips to brush a kiss over his scarred knuckles.

“Alright, darlin’,” he murmurs, conceding the point--it’s worth it, to watch the way that the attempted angry look melts off Gabriel’s face, instead replaced with a hazy smile. “So, why don’t’cha tell me the story of how you got in this big ol’ mess?”

Gabriel tries--bless him--slurring over the words and dragging his vowels, dropping his head back to the pillow when the effort of speaking exhausts him. Jesse listens quietly and tries to follow the mangled story, stroking his thumb softly over the back of Gabriel’s hand. 

Gabriel has just reached the part of his tale when he jumped out of his burning helicopter when Angela emerges from the hallway, startling them both. She walks over with her brow raised at the two, but there’s a kindness in her words as she says, “Jesse...I should have known you would be here already.”

“‘Course.” Jesse straightens up a little, squeezing Gabriel’s hand when he makes a faint noise of distress. “Had to check’n see how my sweetheart was doin’. You got him drugged up somethin’ fierce, Angie.” He pauses, and there’s a more serious note to his voice, an urgency in the way he squeezes Gabriel’s hand, when he asks, “He’s gonna be okay though, right?”

Angela’s gaze softens, and she manages a faint smile as he taps a few buttons on Gabriel’s IV. “Yes, Commander Reyes will recover. His concussion was fairly severe, and he was moderately dehydrated...but, especially with his modified healing, he will be fine.” She turns to look at Gabriel then, her voice going stern. “Assuming, of course, he adheres to the regiment of bedrest that I am prescribing him.”

Gabriel tries to scowl again--and Jesse can’t help but grin. He tips his hat at Angela. “I’ll do my best to convince him to follow your orders, doc. Lord knows it’ll be a challenge.”

Angela turns away, something coy in the twist of her lips as she offers, “For some reason, I think you’ll have plenty of luck, Jesse. Call me if you need me.”

“Need her,” Gabriel grumbles sourly, finally looking away from their hands to meet Jesse’s gaze. “For what?” His voice goes high-pitched as he attempts an impression of Angela’s voice. “‘Commander, I don’t think it wise to do this’, or ‘Commander, you can’t jump out of planes’--bah.” He reaches up with his free hand, setting it on Jesse’s cheek, his thumb dragging lazily over Jesse’s smile. “Don’t listen to her, Jessito, she’s….only wants to hold you back.” 

Gabriel leans closer, voice suddenly dropping into a hushed whisper. “Don’t let her, Jessito. Promise me.”

“Alright, boss.” Jesse grins wider, but nods slowly, relieved to see the tension in Gabriel’s face bleed away. “I promise. I won’t--”

“Good,” Gabriel says, shifting closer and tugging Jesse by his hand, trying to remove the distance between them. “Because I love you...and you can do so much. So much.” He nods to himself, and Jesse follows his tugs until he’s lying down beside him, his arm over Gabriel’s belly and Gabriel’s head nestled against his neck. Gabriel moves as much as the traction and odd position will allow him, wrapping both his arms around Jesse’s middle and squeezing him as tight as he can.

“Love you, Jessito,” he mumbles again, before stifling a yawn against Jesse’s shoulder. “Love you…”

“Shh, Gabe,” Jesse says softly, wriggling one arm free to slide it under Gabriel’s neck, card his fingers gently through those tangled curls; he can feel Gabriel relaxing into his arms, and turns his head to press a kiss to Gabriel’s temple. “I love you, too. Get some rest, darlin’.”

And when Gabriel does fall asleep--nestled up against the broad expanse of Jesse’s chest, warm against his heart--Jesse can’t help but think back to Angela’s words, and grin at the foretelling.

Plenty of luck, indeed.

-x-

Gabriel’s agreement to bedrest lasts all of four days.

Dawn breaks on the fifth, and Jesse’s jostled awake by the feeling of Gabriel moving in their bed, his cast brushing roughly against Jesse’s calf. Without opening his eyes, Jesse groans, throwing an arm out to catch his Commander.

“Nooo...darlin’, come back to bed…”

Gabriel huffs, swatting half-heartedly at the hairy arm slung across his waist. “I haven’t _left_ the bed, Jesse,” he grumbles. “That’s the whole point. I have a meeting at 0800--”

“And Athena sent Ana in your place,” Jesse mumbles, his voice muffled by the pillow his face is buried in. “So that you could rest. You know you’re not supposed to be up and around yet, so get back here and lemme hold you.”

“Jesse--”

“Gabe.” Jesse finally lifts his head, and fixes Gabriel with the saddest look he can muster; he can see the way Gabriel’s eyes hold his gaze, then look away, and considers it a victory. “C’mon, sweetheart...just another hour, okay? Then you can get up and go run laps with your cast, an’ I won’t even complain.”

Gabriel huffs again--but flops back down with a sigh, turning onto his side to snuggle into the soft warmth of Jesse’s bare chest. “One hour. You’re a terrible influence, Jesse McCree. ”

“One hour,” Jesse agrees, hiding his smile in the comfort of the pillow again. “An’ I love you, too.”


End file.
